


Wait A Second

by Ablissa



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Confession, F/M, Fluff, Love, Romance, Silly Doctor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-11
Updated: 2014-02-11
Packaged: 2018-01-11 22:51:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1178914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ablissa/pseuds/Ablissa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He said it. Just like that, on a very normal Thursday, he said it over tea and crumpets. "I love you." That's exactly what he said. But where do we go from here? Just... Just hold on a second. Where do we *really* go from here? Something isn't quite right, and the Doctor can't pinpoint the problem. / A Ten/Rose one-shot. Fluff fluff fluff.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wait A Second

He said it.

Just like that, on a very normal Thursday, he said it over tea and crumpets.

She was telling him a story; something about Shareen getting her nose pierced, he can't really remember now, but she was laughing and she had such happy eyes, and her hair was still in a mess because it was morning and he forced her out of bed because he missed her too much, and her beauty took his breath away, which is impressive with his respiratory bypass, and...

And when he regained some resemblance of it, he just said it. Just blurted it out.

_"I love you."_

He remembers her reaction very well. Remembers his own, too. See, when she stared at him like that, eyes wide, lips parted, a look of alarm on her face, he thought he must've gone and mucked things up. How could he actually  _tell_  her?! He's the Doctor, he doesn't  _talk_  about his feelings. Talking about feelings is for humans, in fact, they hardly ever do anything else! But those three words were pushing and pulling and kicking and begging to be said, and he just... He just  _couldn't_  wait any longer.

So, yes. He was convinced she'd just turn him down. Kindly, it's Rose after all, but how odd would things be between them? Every time she looked at him she'd undoubtedly remember that he, the Doctor,  _loves_  her! Which he does. No question there. Even so, it'd still be rather, errr, uncomfortable. But then, when he forced himself not to pretend that it was all a joke, not to hold a hand over his mouth - that thing, words just slip right out, he had  _absolutely_  no control of it! - her initially bewildered expression developed this, this  _hopeful_  air to it. Yup. And he thought, he remembers that still, he thought:  _maybe she won't exactly_ hate _me for this_.  _Maybe. Perhaps. Who knows. Please, Rose, please don't-_

 _"Sorry, did you just- did you just say that you love_ me _? Or d'you mean like, the new tea or something or..."_

New tea! Ha! Was it new? He didn't notice. Bit busy staring at a certain Rose Tyler, you know. A liiittle busy, yup.

He remembers panicking a little at that. What to say?! Deny it all? He could. Still could. Push on? He wanted to. He certainly did.

_"I do. I do love you, Rose. Errr, a whole lot. I'm-I'm sorry if this makes you, weeell, uncomfortable, but I just- I just wanted-"_

And that was when she took him by surprise.

You see, she just launched herself straight out of her chair, leaped over to his, pulled him up by the lapels of his dressing gown, the one he liked best, the one she picked out for him on Crystalla II, so yes, she pulled him up and then, and then her lips just sort of  _crashed_  onto his. Yup.

For a moment, he just stood there motionless as she snogged him. Because really, it  _was_  just so unexpected, wasn't it? It was exactly what he wanted, mind you, but also everything he never thought would ever happen. So for a moment there, his arms just hung idly at the sides of his body, his lips did not respond to her frankly  _magnificent_  ministrations, and his brain just sort of, err,  _froze_  for a second. Really,  _Rose Tyler_  was snogging him, you can't blame him, can you now?

That moment lasted less than a fracture of a second. And then his arms just fell into place around her waist as hers were entangled around his neck, and his lips started to respond to her kisses with fervor, and she tasted like the banana lip balm she told him she was using and soon her tongue slipped past them and caressed the roof of his mouth, and  _oh_. Oh.

It was...

_life changing_

_absolutely fantastic_

_mind blowing_

_BRILLIANT_

_really quite wellll, sexy, yup_

_amazing_

_better than bananas. and he likes bananas_

_better than anything and everything actually_

_oh, and it should never ever end. that too._

It was quite an eye-opening experience, to say the least, and it was followed by her breaking the snog just as he was about to slip  _his_  tongue past her lips, and he felt so very deprived and sad and ROSE, WHY WOULD YOU STOP. Why would you  _ever_  stop.

 _"I love you too, Doctor,"_ she breathed against his mouth then, and he wanted to take those words and sear them onto his hearts to never stop hearing them. To lock the two of them up on this floating shiny little cloud and stay there forever, because really, what else could he possibly need? He wanted Rose. That's what he wanted.

What he also wanted back then, he remembers that very clearly, what he  _really_  wanted was to just keep snogging her. So at that point, that is exactly what he did, but first he said:

_"Quite right, too."_

She giggled in between their kisses and it was really rather delightful. And then she...  _OH._

_SHE UNDID HIS DRESSING GOWN._

And she... Rassilon, should he be remembering this  _now_? Time and place for everything, Doctor. Pull yourself together! No, wait. It's  _always_  the right time for Rose Tyler, so that's all fine and dandy, isn't it?

Right, so she undid his dressing gown, and he  _may_  have contributed to her suddenly being shirtless, and then it was only fair that he'd lose the top of his jimjams too, wasn't it? So he did. He pulled her closer then, skin against skin, and his senses just went into this, this complete  _overload_. You see, Time Lords have superior senses. Touch, smell, sight, it all just overpowered him and from that point on, he didn't think at all. He was acting entirely on instinct.

And they  _may_  have ended up in his bedroom, because subconsciously he didn't want to rush it  _too_ much, even though it was hard to make it the whole way there (about six steps, his TARDIS moved the bedroom almost right under their noses. Bless his wonderful ship!) without pulling off the remains of her clothes and just-

Right.

And, mind you, he doesn't want to be rude or anything of the sort, but that day he certainly  _did_  shag Rose Tyler and it was  _AMAZING!_ It was!He could shout it from rooftops, mountain tops, any-tops! Just that she probably wouldn't  _want_  him to, but  _he_  wanted to! His mind was shouting at him in this happy delighted unusual way and it was so, so, so good. All of it.

Once she dozed off he stayed awake, giggling to himself like the daft man that he was, looking at her with wide open eyes and hearts on the verge of bursting out into this joyful song that would never ever end because Rose and because he  _did_  love her and yes. Just yes.

And then she woke up, and they've done nothing else than, weeeell, you know!, for the whole day. Well, they had more tea at some point. With crumpets.

But even then, she sat in his lap instead of that stupid old chair, which was very pleasant and they may have not quite finished their tea.

But they didn't mind  _that_  in the least.

* * *

Remember what he said about there being a time and place for everything? Weeell, perhaps remembering the (rather  _brilliant_ ) details of their, err, their  _private_  time should've been kept for when they  _were_  in private. May have been a better option, yup, but he couldn't really help it. Come on, how could anybody ever help it? It was impossible!

"Doctor? Oh, would you just look at that man! All in a daze, he is. And smiling like a fool! You've been keepin' him up all night, haven't you, Rose?"

The words slip into his distracted mind one after one, and only as he repeats them to himself does he truly register them. Before he has a chance to say anything, though, Rose (who is sitting very, very close to him on the sofa and he sort of wants to snog her but he knows that he can't, not  _now,_ and that is very unsettling) beats him to it.

"Mum!"

"What? I'm not a nun, sweetheart! 'sides, you two just have those bedroom eyes. 'm surprised the pair of ya hasn't been shagging since way back. Thought you were, really! But now you come here and this daft man just snogs you senseless while you two think I'm not lookin' 'cos I'm making tea, so I'm guessing it's something new, isn't it? Go on darling, you can tell me."

"You  _saw_  that?"

"Saw that? Saw  _and_  heard that! Must be a good kisser, isn't he? He's an alright looking bloke, I'll give you that. Better than when he had those big ears, eh?"

See, when Jackie Tyler mentions that snog, the Doctor feels an acute sense of emptiness. Because over the last two weeks, that is, since he told Rose, they hardly did anything else than a whole lot of kissing and weeell, and  _more_. But to hear  _Jackie Tyler_ talk about it just snaps him right back to reality for a second.

"Oi! My ears were not  _that_  big, Jackie. Just the right size. Perhaps a liiittle bigger than that."

"Really, Doctor? That's the only thing you want to address? Have you been listening to what mum's been sayin'?"

"Oh, err, and we don't-we don't do any of that, err, stuff. Nope. None at all! We just have tea and... And... Read books and... Discuss important subjects, yes, very important, such as, ehm..."

"Sub-atomic particles and their interactions!" Rose chimes in happily. The Doctor's eyes nearly fall out of their sockets in shock.

"What did you just say?" he asks, staring at her.

"What? I didn't say anything, Doctor."

"Yes, you did. You did, you said:  _sub-atomic particles and their interactions_ ," he protests uncertainly, quirking his brow at her, eyeing her suspiciously.

"My god, you really can be daft sometimes," she says and ignores the presence of her mother only to give him a quick peck on the cheek which is, in all fairness, quite lovely and he doesn't pay it much mind anymore, not any of it, not Rose mentioning quantum mechanics and not Jackie prattling on about the two of them being a pair of proper lovebirds, because hey, they  _are_. And it's absolutely brilliant.

They walk back to the TARDIS an hour later, swinging their joined hands between them as the evening breeze is toying with their hair, Rose giggling at him as he tells her the story of a tribe of polar bear people who live up in the mountains on this really icy planet, and he knows that she doesn't believe him, so he plans on taking her there. After a quick, delightful, ehm,  _visit_  to the console room. Ooor the library. Or the bedroom. Or...

But next thing he knows, they're cuddled up on a beach filled with blue sand and glittering pieces of rock. The sea before them is orange, wavy and inviting. He recognizes the planet - of course he does, who do you take him for! - but still feels puzzled as to how they actually got there.

She's snuggled up into his chest, her fingers lazily unbuttoning his shirt. Her skin is slightly tanned, her hair disheveled by the sea breeze, and she's wearing a sun dress that's pulled alllllll the way up to her thigh. It's nice. He approves. Very, very much so. As for him, he's not wearing a jacket, coat or tie. Just that blue shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and his usual brown pants. How odd.

He looks around before settling his eyes on her. She catches his look and smirks at him, her tongue poking out at the corner of her mouth.

"Rose?"

"Yeah, Doctor?" she says softly, biting her lip as her ministrations reveal his bare chest. A chill runs through him as she traces open mouthed kisses across his navel, and he forgets where they are, and-

"Rose! Hold-hold on," he cries, propping himself up on his elbows. She looks taken aback and slightly disappointed. And that pout. That pout is  _not fair_. Not fair  _at all_.

"What is it? Don't you... want to?"

"No! I mean, yes! I mean..." He rakes his fingers through his hair and looks up to the sky. "How... How did we get here? We were just walking to the TARDIS, going back home from your mother's, weren't we?"

She giggles and straddles him, and to be honest, that pretty much purges his mind of all kinds of coherent, important, very thinky thoughts. Yup. Just sort of makes it all go blank. Interesting effect, really, and quite, weeell,  _potent_.

"Don't tell me you fell asleep," she mumbles against his mouth, then pauses to snog him. Here's to one more thing he most definitely approves of! "You were gonna take me to some, I dunno, polar bear zoo or somethin'? But we ended up here. And I said we're stayin'. This beach is nice. D'you know what else is nice?" He shakes his head  _no_. "You're nice. Without a shirt."

She's a minx. A very evil minx. Because she moves against him and kisses that spot just below his ear, and instinct takes over. So perhaps he  _did_  fall asleep. Big deal. More important things on his mind. Such as Rose Tyler, a sundress in urgent need of removal, and soft skin against his own. That's pretty much it.

He touches her and quickly forgets the fact that he forgot.

* * *

The following weeks are a blur, quite literally. They settle into this new routine where they're not a pair of friends but also a pair of lovers, and he finds that mixing the two is possibly the best thing in the entire universe. But only with Rose.

When he thinks of it all, he sees split moments, pieces of a whole scattered across his mind. Rose trying to bake him a banana cake, and failing miserably. The two of them running from an entire army of angered Sontaran and hiding in some abandoned house, and since they were alone, weeelll... They were  _not_  bored. Meeting Jackie again, helping Rose when she twisted her ankle, going out to the pub on a foreign planet and watching her get completely smashed, carrying her into their bedroom afterwards, kissing her forehead and whispering words of love into her ear. Split little scenes with seemingly no connection between them. Rose acted odd sometimes, too. She'd randomly shout at him about physics or politics from the 1500s and then say she said no such thing, but he knew better. His days became slightly tinted with worry, but he fought it away and tried to keep her safe, day and night.

And the routine just went on, and he enjoyed it. Enjoyed waking up next to her, enjoyed watching her as she slept beside him, awakening her much, much too early simply because he missed her.

He tries to look past all these oddities. After all, just  _being in a relationship_  is odd. And it sounds weird, too, he can't quite wrap his tongue around it, can't imagine himself as anything else than a free spirit, but then he remembers that with Rose, he is free in the best kind of way, and that the universe has never looked more beautiful than it does now, with her at his side, in the one way he never imagined possible.

He hasn't slept in a week. Nothing to do with Rose, he just doesn't sleep much. And perhaps he  _does_  worry about her a little bit, what with her odd, random exclamations. But that night, he's just plain tired and spent. He falls asleep with her in his arms, his nose nuzzled into her neck, smelling her hair, his hand tightly clasping hers near her stomach, his other arm serving as her pillow. He'll feel numb in the morning, Time Lord or not, but he doesn't care in the least.

The last conscious thought that travels through his mind as he inhales her scent, is  _I fought this for too long_. And then he drifts off, content with the knowledge that he will find her right there in the morning, as has become the routine during the past weeks.

Only he... He  _doesn't_.

**~oOo~**

His eyes slowly open up. He feels strangely light, with no weight upon his body, and he was used to her using him as a bed of sorts by now. He doesn't like it, this weightless feeling, not one bit.

The side of the bed that they've already decided was hers is now empty and cold, as are his bare arms. She never left before he woke up. Most commonly he'd wake up first, and even if not, she always stayed until he was up, too.

"Rose?" he mumbles, his voice low and husky from sleep. "Rose? Rose!"

He sits up and looks around. His bedroom, not hers. He doesn't remember which one they fell asleep in the previous night, but it hardly matters as both the rooms are  _theirs_  by now, not just his or hers. Either way, the bedroom is empty.

He jumps out of bed and runs towards the en suite, his eyes still heavy from sleep but also slowly filling up with panic. Where was she? Where did she go?

"ROSE!"

She always stayed! Has something happened to her? Is that even possible? They're on the TARDIS, for Rassilon's sake! What could possibly happen? Unless-

"ROOOOOOOOSEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!" He bolts out of his bedroom, wearing nothing but a pair of boxers. She picked them out for him, sometime recently, he can't say when. It's all such a blur. Where's Rose? Where's she?

"ROSE!" he screams at the top of his lungs, now in near-full panic. He checks her bedroom. He checks the wardrobe. Where is she? His hearts are racing as he makes his way through the corridors, his ship helpfully moving doors leading to different rooms closer to him.

He wants to check the console room, but he finds her peeking out of the galley, a bemused, if slightly worried, expression on her face. She's wearing a large t-shirt and shorts. Relief washes over him immediately as he comes to a stop a tad too abrupt, and nearly smashes his face against the door to the galley.

"Doctor? What's goin' on? Why're you screaming like that? Are you alright?"

He stands and stares at her in mute joy. Nooo idea why she left before he woke up. Maybe she was hungry. One way or another, she's fine. But her hair... Why's her hair longer? He could swear she cut it just a few weeks back... Odd, that.

He loves the way she tilts her head up to look into his eyes, but seemingly cannot stop herself from looking down his rather exposed body. He ponders pulling her in for a snog as a response to her various questions, but before he follows through with his decision, she pats his arm tentatively and turns around, then goes back to the table and her bowl of cereal.

He feels dejected, disappointed, and most of all, uneasy. She didn't look at him the same way she did just last night. What happened? Why didn't she even wait for him to respond?

"Doctor? Are you okay? Go on, sit down. There's some for you too. Your favorite." She smiles at him with concern and he shakes his head, rubbing the back of his neck as he sits down and studies her carefully for a moment before speaking up.

"You weren't there," he says accusingly after studying her carefully. She freezes and eyes him up and down: from his undoubtedly messy hair to his only article of clothing, eyes flitting back up when she reaches that point. Why doesn't she just, err,  _pull them off_? She's done that just a few days ago. What's wrong?  _Something_  is, of that he is certain. It doesn't feel right. It feels... Odd.

"Where?"

He swallows, squinting at her in concern and suspicion. Perhaps she's just being playful, but there's no playful gleam in her eye, and that worries him. Has he done something wrong?

"The, err, bedroom?"

Her mouth falls open in surprise. "You mean, my room? Yeah, 'cos I got up and thought I'd go and grab a bite. But what were you doin' looking for me? We usually have tea in the morning, yeah?"

Wait. Wait wait wait. Wait a second. Of course he  _was_  looking for her! She slept next to him for the past... Past... Blimey! Why can't he remember the exact number of days?

"But Rose, we-" he cut off, cold sweat pricking at his skin as a realization came upon him.

Bits and pieces of everything. Odd reactions from Rose. Not knowing the exact number of days that passed since he... Since he  _told her_...

No. No. It can't be.

"We...?"

He shook his head. "What day is it?"

Rose looks at him as if he's gone completely mad. "'s Thursday! Doctor, are you ill? You always remember what day it is." She stands up and her hand briefly brushes his forehead, probably checking his temperature. "Blimey! You're burning up! 's probably 'cos you were running around like mad after we got soaked last night. Hold on, I'll fetch you something to put on. Why're you so..." Her eyes drift down to his chest, his stomach, his boxers and after the slightest shake of her head, travel back up to meet his intent gaze. "Why're you so, um,  _underdressed_? You ought to-"

His dressing gown materializes in his lap. This can't be true.

"Looks like the TARDIS has got you covered, yeah? But you'd better take somethin' for the fever. I dunno, aspirin or something. D'you want a cuppa?"

He couldn't have just-

He stands up, puts on the robe, ties the knot tightly and he as good as stares at her. Normally, she would have kissed him by now. Rassilon,  _he_ would have kissed her! Then why hasn't he?  _What_  was stopping him?

He needed to know. Confirmation, something, anything.

"Rose?"

"Yeah?"

"I have a, errr... A question."

"What is it?" she asks curiously, although with a healthy dose of confusion, too.

"Weeell, I... You... Do you always sleep in your bedroom?"

She chuckles, eyes wide open in disbelief. She bites down on her lip for a moment and then says, "Um, yeah? Where else would I sleep? You're acting weird today, Doctor. And I mean,  _weirder than usual_ , and  _that's_  sayin' something."

His mouth falls open and everything falls into place.

It  _was_  odd, the whole thing. How memories just sort of mixed together like different colors of paint, how one moment they'd be in one place, the next somewhere entirely new, how she'd randomly talk about quantum physics...

He was  _dreaming_! He woke up to an empty bed, because she had never slept in it! He's never told her that he... That he...

He puts his elbows up on the table and rests his head in his hands, rubbing his eyes tiredly. She's staring at him in concern, he knows, but he just...

Oh, it's all those daft films she's always making him watch! He doesn't  _normally_ ponder such things. Kissing Rose and hugging Rose and sleeping with Rose and... And...

He  _doesn't_.

Alright, maybe  _sometimes_. But not in that great detail. It's all those daft romances Rose is always gushing over, that's what it is! Got his tired, slightly feverish mind fooled! He lets out a sound that's somewhere in between a chuckle and a sob. Well, perhaps it's for the best. He shouldn't... He really  _shouldn't_. It's better this way, really, isn't it?

No. No, it isn't. Because he still wants to feel her warm skin against his, still wants to see tears of joy in her eyes when he says that he loves her, still wants to be hers, properly, for however long they'd be granted. Against the pain, against the odds.

But what says that  _she_  would want the same, in reality? In a world so much harsher than his insane dreams?

He gulps and looks up, finding her sitting across the table, staring at him in concern. Her eyes are so deep, he'd get lost in them if he only could. Brown, caring, friendly. Occasionally moving down to the little triangle of bare skin and hair that peeks out from underneath his dressing gown, then flying back up before he has the chance to truly catch her staring. In this reality - the  _real_  version of it - she'd never seen him wear anything less than a pair of rather conservative jimjams.

When her eyes meet his again, there's this kind of heat hidden deep down within them, and she surrenders her gaze as she unconsciously brings her thumb to her mouth, biting down on the finger nervously.

She clears her throat eventually and asks, "So? D'you want that cuppa?"

He sighs and nods in response. Might as well.

The next twenty or so minutes, she moves right back to her casual demeanor and he observes her intently, every movement, every look of hers tinted with the vivid memories of his dream. He still can't believe that he's just dreamt it, but there's no doubt about it now. She really is still just a friend.

Disappointment fills him up, head to toe, because there has never been a dream more appealing than the one he was forced to wake up from. Simply being  _with_  Rose Tyler, not just next to her. Tasting her lips, tasting life in ways he never thought possible. What wouldn't he give for that dream to be real...

And there it was. Yet another realization.

It wasn't  _impossible_ , was it? It could be real, or it could end in complete disaster. Two roads, both starting from one action.

He doesn't want to calculate the odds, because they very well might be against him. She's sitting there and she looks so very lovely, and with the way she looked at him mere moments ago, perhaps it's  _not_  such a terrible idea.

He was never one to stand by idly when he had the ability to act.

"And then I said:  _look, Shar, it's not goin' to kill you. 's just your nose. You always said you didn't like your-_ "

Her voice is soft, happy and so is she. And he is nervous, because this isn't right. They were supposed to be past this point already. In his dream, they certainly were.

Only one way to get back there, right?

"Rose," he interjects, hearts threatening to beat their way out of his rib cage in their rapid fluttering.

"Yeah?"

"I've got something to, errr, tell you..."

**~oOo~**

Many hours later, he pinches his arm, the arm that's draped across her waist as she lies there next to him. In his embrace.

He pinches it  _hard_.

"Ow!"

She lazily rotates her head to try and face him. Her hair smells of lilacs and tickles his nose.

"What's happened now, then?" she asks with a slow, satisfied, loving grin.

He returns her smile and kisses those beautiful lips. It doesn't feel odd in the least.

"Nothing. Was just checking something."

This time, when he wakes up the next morning, she's still there. And his arm is so delightfully numb from having to support her weight for the entire night that he doesn't even  _need_  to pinch himself.

But he still does. Just in case.

* * *

**A/N:** Funny thing: I actually  _dreamed_ this fic up. Not the entire thing of course, but the Doctor finally getting together with Rose and then waking up to find that it's just a dream. Say what you will, it was nice and I thought I'd write it down :D Thank you for reading this!

Also, this was my submission to the New Who Fic Olympics. Check out  **nwficolympics** on tumblr for more info.


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